


Comfort and Joy

by DREWHHR



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Romance, Victorian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:37:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21930487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DREWHHR/pseuds/DREWHHR
Summary: Set in a Victorian AU, Hermione Granger meets Lord Harry Potter at a Christmas party. He has never celebrated Christmas, so she helps him experience the holiday.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 54
Collections: Harmony Advent Collection 2019





	Comfort and Joy

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling does.

Comfort and Joy

Hermione Granger was having a tolerable time at the party at the Weasley home. She was not really one to dance but she told her friends she would go and socialize with them. However, her friends were there on the dancefloor, twirling and spinning, laughing with their partners. It was a Yuletide event to start off the Christmastime season, as the weather had started to get colder and colder.

In truth, she would rather be at home, reading her books in front of the fire in her nightgown drinking apple cider. She had gotten offers to dance but she declined, feigning a headache. With a sigh, she turned and retreated into the library, which was dark, but she craved to be alone.

But she wasn’t the only one in there. In the soft glow from the fire stood a looming figure by the mantle. He was wearing a crisp black suit with an emerald green cravat that matched his sparkling eyes that were behind a pair of round spectacles.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know anyone was in here!” she apologized with a blush.

“It’s quite alright, my lady.” He tipped his top hat at her with a smile. “I’m guessing you had the same idea. I’m afraid I’m not comfortable at these types of soirees.” He put his hands behind his back and walked towards her.

“Then why did you agree to come?”

“I’m tired of being alone.”

Hermione’s heart broke at that. Who was this man and why was he so lonely? She wanted to wrap him in her arms and hold him against her.

“My name is Harry Potter, Lord of Godric’s Hollow, my lady,” he introduced himself with a sad smile. “I just moved here from Surrey about a month ago with my inheritance I had no idea I had.”

Hermione noticed his slip-up. “Oh, I assure you, I am no lady. I am Miss Hermione Granger, my lord.”

Harry blushed red under the dark light. “I-I am sorry. I am new to all of this grandeur and titles. I was sure you were a lady, Miss Granger.”

“It is fine, my lord. I am actually flattered.”

There was a small silence, until Hermione asked, “Do you read?” She made her way past him to the bookshelf and scanned her delicate finger over the spines.

“When I can. Every now and then. I try to keep busy on my estate.”

“I love to read. I must have fifty books in my room but no bookcase. Never got one.”

“Every avid reader must have a bookcase, Miss Granger.”

Hermione turned to him and smiled. “They are stacked against the wall.” 

“They deserve a better place,” he smiled at her. 

“They do.” There was a comfortable silence were they just started at each other, gazing into each other’s eyes. Chocolate brown meeting emerald green. “I should be getting home  
soon.” She regretted those words. She wanted to stay with the lord but it was getting late.

“Would you like me to bring you home in my carriage?”

Hermione blushed prettily. “I would like that, my lord, thank you.”

“Please, call me ‘Harry’, Miss Granger.”

“Only if you call me ‘Hermione’.”

Harry helped his new friend into his black carriage after she told the driver where she lived. They said their “farewells” to the Weasleys. He smiled as she sat across from him. He was happy to have a few more moments with her. He never had a friend before. Especially one as beautiful as Miss Hermione Granger.

“Do you enjoy Christmastide?” she spoke, startling him.

“Oh, actually, I have never celebrated it…”

His companion’s jaw dropped. “Never?” At the shake of his head, she replied, “How can this be? Does your family not celebrate it?”

“I have no family.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. Forgive me. I have made a blunder.”

“It is fine. Do not bother yourself.”

The two continued on in silence as the carriage bumped along in the white snow. Five minutes later, the carriage stopped in front of a two-story wooden house with a garland  
wreath on the front door. 

Harry opened the door. After he stepped out, he held out a hand for Hermione to take. She blushed as she accepted his help.

“Interesting,” he commented as he stared up at her home.

“What is?” she asked curiously.

“Well…that is my house.” He turned and pointed to the white manor across the way from her house. It was plain, but definitely something to look at.

“We are neighbors,” Hermione chuckled.

“Looks like we are, Hermione,” he said with a charming grin. “Come, let us get you out of this cold.”

The door opened and there stood Mrs. Granger, a tall, pretty thing, with a matronly look. “Hermione! How was the party?”

“It was lovely. Lord Harry Potter here was kind enough to give me a ride home in his carriage. He lives across the way.”

Mrs. Charlotte Granger dipped a small curtsy at Harry. “My lord, thank you for bringing her home safe.”

Harry nodded. “It was no problem. Hermione was great company tonight. I did not know anyone.”

The younger Granger looked up at him and asked, “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“I would love to, but I am afraid I will have to pass for now. I must be getting home.”

Hermione frowned. She wanted to spend more time with him. “I understand. You have a good night, sir. Thank you for the carriage ride.”

“You are most welcome, Miss Granger.” He took her gloved hand and kissed the back of it. With a nod to her mother, he turned around and went back to his carriage. Hermione watched as it rolled to the manor with longing. He was nice and sweet.

There was a knock at the door after breakfast the next day. Hermione was sitting in her rocking chair by the fire with a leather tome in her lap. She marked her place with a bookmark and set the book on the mantle. Opening the door, she smiled as she saw Lord Harry Potter carrying an axe in his hand.

“Good morning. I need your help, Hermione,” he said simply.

“Alright…with what?” she asked looking at the axe.

He blushed, looking away. “I told you last night I have never celebrated Christmastide. I need your help decorating my home.”

“What is with the axe?”

He looked down as if he just realized if he had no idea it had been in his hand the entire time. “Oh, I need to chop down a Christmas tree. I need your critique on picking one out.”

Hermione giggled. “Let me get my coat and gloves.” Once she was dressed warmly in an overcoat, a woolen hat, and kit gloves, she followed him out of the door to the woods behind his house to find a tree.

“What made you decide to decorate for Christmastide, Harry?” she cut the silence.

“You did, actually. I want to celebrate it this year. Even if I am alone in that big house.”

“You live alone?”

“Aye, I do. My parents were Lord James and Lady Lily Potter. They were murdered just after my first birthday. I was sent to live with relatives of my mother. They were…not so kind.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean? Did they…did they beat you?”

He looked away as they trudged further in the snow. “You could say that. They celebrated Christmas, too, but they left me out of it. I never received a gift. My cousin was spoiled rotten. He received countless gifts, while I had to cook Christmas dinner.”

“That is cruel.”

“It is the past. This is the now, my friend.”

“Friend” he called her. She liked that. And she had only met him the night before. 

An hour later, they had found the perfect Christmas tree. It was a nine-foot Fraser fir and smelled amazing. Harry had laboriously chopped it down and his female friend helped drag it back to his manor, where Harry’s servant, Kreacher, found candles and a long velvet ribbon to wrap around it. Hermione was happy to help decorate.

“Do you have garland?” she asked after the tree was finally finished.

“Garland?” the lord asked confusedly.

“I guess not.”

The two of them took Harry’s carriage into the town of Godric’s Hollow and visited a couple of shops that were selling Christmas décor. They bought garland, a wreath, ceramic angels, and knickknacks to shower his home in Christmastide.

“Do you need to buy any presents for anyone?”

He shook his head. “I have not got anybody but me.”

Hermione smiled sadly.

The next day had Hermione knocking on Harry’s door asking if he had ever built a snowman. He had not and so she pulled him outside to build a snowman. They had constructed a male and then Hermione said, “He seems all alone.”

“You are right, Miss Granger. Let us build him a friend.” So, the two of them built a female, complete with a bonnet and gloves, right next to him.

“There, now he does not look so lonely,” Harry told her as they observed their work.

“I agree.” She walked away from him with a mischievous smile. Reaching down, she balled up a bit of snow into her gloved hands and threw as hard as she could in Harry’s direction.

The snowball hit him in the back of the head. “Oi! I am going to get you for that, Miss Granger!” He laughed and a war began.

Snowballs started flying back and forth as the two friends tried to hit each other. Harry came around and tackled Hermione to the ground and they laughed uproariously. It was the most fun Harry had ever had in his twenty-two years of life.

The two settled for tea and a little lunch in Harry’s drawing room in front of the fire. Their clothes were wet, and they were trying to get warm and dry from the snow. 

“So, how long were you with your relatives, Harry?” Hermione asked blowing on her hot tea.

“Sixteen years. Then, I went out on my own when I turned seventeen. I learned from a woodcarver how to make trinkets and sell my wares, so I was able to make a living. I was quite good at it. I carved that owl behind you.” Hermione turned around and gazed at a beautiful wooden owl on a cabinet. It was intricately designed and showed a heavy feather carving.

“It is magnificent, Harry!”

“Thank you,” he blushed. “A few months ago, a man named Dumbledore, who knew my parents found me sleeping under the stars in Hyde Park in London. He told me I was a lord and I could have my inheritance and manor if I wanted it. I was tired of sleeping on the ground so, here I am.”

“You slept outdoors?”

“Yes. For five years. It is not so bad…until it gets cold like this. But I know how to build a fire, so I was able to live on my own.”

“I am sorry you had to go through that.”

“It was not your fault. I said it yesterday: it is the past. I am ready for the here and now,” he said with a ghost of a smile.

After lunch, Harry showed her his library, which held over ten thousand books. He was in awe of watching her in her happy place and was ecstatic that he was the one who had put a smile on her face.

“You can come here any time you want and borrow a book, if you want.” She threw her arms around his neck at his words, thanking him.

The several days found Harry and Hermione spending a lot of time together and Hermione felt herself falling in love with the young lord. She knew about status and doubt he could love someone like her, but she was just happy enough with his friendship.

Harry took her on a sleigh ride around Godric’s Hollow on Christmas Eve and they talked the whole day away about everything and nothing. It was getting closer to Christmastide and Hermione had been wanting to ask him something.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” she asked as he helped her down from the sleigh in front of her home.

“Oh, I am sending Kreacher home to spend it with his relatives so it will just be me in the manor. I will probably cook up a small Cornish game hen and some hash for dinner.”

“What about spending Christmas dinner with my family and I? I do not want you to be alone.”

Harry looked away. “I-I do not want to be a bother.”

“You will be no bother, Harry.”

“Christmas is a family tradition. I am not family.” The truth was he had to finish something for her. Her gift. And he felt like an intruder upon a family that was not his. “Good day, Miss Granger.” He left before Hermione could say another word.

The next night, Hermione heard the neighing of horses as she set the table for Christmas dinner. She looked at her mother and father, both of them knowing it came from the front of their house. 

“Now, who could that be at this hour?” her father asked, setting down the turkey on the table, and then walking to the door. He opened it, and a sharp chill ran through the home. “It is Lord Potter from across the way.”

Hermione rushed to the door, finding Harry jumping down from a wagon pulled by two brown steeds. In the back of the wagon, something huge was covered in thick canvas. It was shapeless but it did look like it had sharp edges.

Harry made eye contact with her and smiled. She smiled back, grabbing her coat to meet him. “I thought you did not want to come to dinner.”

He ignored her comment, hesitating, “I have something for you.” He walked to the back of the wagon and removed the canvas.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione. I, uh, I made it myself.”

Hermione’s heart jumped into her throat as she gasped at what was revealed under that brown canvas. It was the most beautiful, handcrafted bookcase she had ever seen. It was simple and made out of pine and had four shelves. Standing at four feet high and seven feet long and polished so clean, Hermione could see her reflection. At the bottom were two drawers for letters or whatever else she desired to put in there.

“You told me on the first night we met you did not have a bookshelf so…I crafted you one. I hope you like it.”

“Harry…” She looked up at him with wide, watery eyes. Without warning, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his.

He was shocked at first, but he laid his hands on her waist and kissed her back. Damn propriety. Damn her parents that were most likely watching. He was in love with this woman. 

She ended the kiss and said, “I love you.”

“I did not think it was possible for me to feel this way, but I love you, too, Miss Hermione Granger.”

“Would you like to come inside for Christmastide dinner?” she asked him again.

He closed his eyes and smiled with sheer joy and happiness. “Yes, I would love to.”


End file.
